


Recovery

by Nylazor



Series: The Adventures of Cal Amell [14]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Depression, M/M, Self-Harm, Sex, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 22:55:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nylazor/pseuds/Nylazor
Summary: The warden makes the ultimate sacrifice leaving Zevran to deal with the grief.This story is about Zevran's recovery.





	Recovery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ray_Murata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_Murata/gifts).



> Man I usually ramble in the notes but I don't really have anything, I stayed up until 4am twice writing this, it's kinda short tho, unbeta'd  
> Uh I'm serious about the suicide and self harm warnings, Zevran is not in a good place after the warden dies.

 

Zevran holds the knife to his throat, breathing hard. It's so easy to kill other people, pushing the dagger in through their flesh but he can't seem to cut his own throat. He moves the knife to his chest and tries to drive it through into his heart, but his arms stall, they feel like he tensed them even though he hasn't willed it.  
He whips the knife into the wall in frustration.  
He supposes it must be a self preservation method, to not be able to hurt yourself easily. Cal did it, they burned or cut their own flesh so easily. However they were using magic, maybe the separation from the physical was the key.  
His tears begin to flow again as the thoughts return to him.  
Cal. Dead.  
The mere thought sends pain jutting through his chest. He grits his teeth and tries to shy away from the thought but it comes again, faster.  
Cal. Dead.  
Cal.  
Dead.  
Cal dead Cal dead Cal Cal Cal dead dead dead.  
No. No. No no no no no.  
“You asshole!” Screams Zevran.  
Cal didn't tell him. He didn't tell him he was going to be an idiot and die for the kingdom.  
The damned kingdom.  
Zevran takes a big chug from the bottle of wine he stole from the cellars.  
“We had a pact you lying asshole.” Zevran covers his face with his hands trying to hold back sobs.  
They did have a pact. An anti-suicide pact. 'I won't die if you don't.’ that's what Cal had said. And Zevran had agreed they'd shaken on it and everything.  
Cal. Dead.  
Alistair had to be the one to explain it because Cal was TOO FUCKING DEAD!  
A grey warden has to be the one to kill the Archdemon. Alistair was king. The other warden was dead. Suicidal Cal volunteered. There weren't any other Warden's in Ferelden afterall.  
Zevran knew something was up. Cal was giving him damned puppy dog eyes the whole day of the attack. On the march to Denerim. Fighting through it. Even during the Archdemon fight. After each fight Cal would jog up to him and pet his hair or stroke his tattoos or adjust his clothes, all while biting his lip and looking anywhere but Zevran. But when he thought Zevran wasn't looking. Damned. Puppy dog. Eyes. Huge and sad.  
Zevran had asked of course, Cal just said it was nothing and reminded Zevran how much he loved him.  
Fuck.  
Cal. Dead.  
'Sorry Zev.’  
Cal’s last words, right before he stabbed that damn sword through the dragon's head.  
It hurt god, it hurt so much. It hurt as much as Rinna. It hurt as much as Talisen. But at least after Rinna he had Talisen. At least after Talisen he had Cal.  
Now.  
Now he had no one.  
He couldn't even kill himself right! He was supposed to be so good at killing! He was an assassin! But something was holding him back.  
He had held himself together during the funeral. Now he was lost. No more goals. No more blight. No more crows. He didn't know what he was supposed to do.  
Cal had made dealings the crows in Denerim, even done jobs for them. When Cal had asked about Zevran the crows dismissed it and said they would no longer hunt him. Cal had looked back and beamed at Zevran at those words. It took all Zevran had not to slap his forehead and roll his eyes. They were probably lying to get on his good side!  
But Cal had always been too trusting, hell the first night Zevran had sworn himself to the warden, Cal had dragged him into his tent and made him recite what it was like in Antiva, only to fall asleep in the middle. If Zevran had really wanted to he could have killed him right there. They didn't even take his knives! But he didn't. And in the ended he was happy he didn't.  
Zevran wanted to die, he wanted this pain to end!  
Zevran stood up fast only to stumble. Uh oh. He may have drunk more than he realized.  
But he had an idea. A bad idea.  
Zevran pushed through his door and stumbled through the hallways until he stood in front of the door he was looking for.  
He slammed it open only to stare at Liliana gaping up at him.  
Whoops.  
Not the door he was looking for.  
“Zevran!” Leliana stood up. “I meant to ask you, are you alright? I know you and Cal were close-”  
“Not now, my dear, I'm on a mission, where's Alistair?” Zevran slurred out.  
“He's two doors down, but Zevran, are you ok? Do you want to talk-” Liliana took a step closer.  
“No! No. Mission time.”  
“Zevran…”  
Zevran slammed the door shut and went to her instructions and whipped the next door open without knocking.  
“Ah!” Alistair dropped his sword he had been sharpening. “Zevran! What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night.”  
Zevran tried to looked relaxed but really his mind was racing.  
He pulled on a half smile. “Why, I was looking for you, Cairo.”  
“Um, what does that mean? Cairo? Isn't that what you used to call Cal-”  
“Don't pretend you don't know exactly what I'm here for. I've seen how you look at me.” Zevran took two steps forward.  
“I really don’t, I- wait what? I don't look at you like anything! What are you implying!?” Alistair stood up angrily.  
“He told me you were a virgin, he told me… a lot of things… I wanted to help you out, don't tell me you're not curious.” Two more steps. They were a metre apart now.  
“Who told you that!? Cal?” Alistair was sweating, he was just in his small clothes. “Women! I like women, Zevran!”  
Zevran lunged forward and pulled Alistair onto the floor, pushing their faces together, they rolled and Zevran was on top, straddling the younger man.  
“Get off!” Alistair pushed and struggled, but Zevran had gravity and leverage on his side.  
“Make me.” Zevran trailed his hand down Alistair's ass.  
Alistair was panicking he grabbed whatever was in reach and swung it trying to dislodge the assassin.  
It was his sword.  
It had dug deep into Zevran’s chest.  
Not deep enough though.  
Zevran struggled to remain on Alistair, but he was pushed off and landed on his side with a huff.  
“Holy shit. I'm so sorry, I told you I didn't want to… I'll go get Cal, he'll... shit no he's… fuck I'm sure there's a healer around somewhere just hold on.” Alistair jumped up, and scrambled around, he pressed his shirt to the gash in the other man's chest. “Hold this here Zevran.”  
It was at that point that Alistair realized Zevran was glaring at him.  
“You idiot warden! You can't even kill right! What if I were an enemy!” Zevran threw the bloodied shirt at Alistair's shocked face. “You're so stupid! I thought you, if anyone could… nevermind.”  
Zevran stood up shakily and turned his back to the man, only to trip and fall.  
Shit he was loosing alot of blood, maybe this did work.  
“What are you talking about! I could what!? Kill you? Because that's what almost happened! I could have-” Alistair cut himself off. “Killed you… Zevran was this a suicide attempt? Were you trying to get me to kill you?”  
Zevran couldn't hold himself anymore, the gash had dyed everything it touched red. He was so drowsy.  
Cal. Dead.  
Zevran closed his eyes. Cal, dead. His love. His boyfriend. His warden. His everything.  
Alistair was still talking but Zevran was too far gone. It was distant noise now.  
Cal.  
Cal Cal Cal.  
Dead.  
Maybe I'll see you again.

***

“Zev? Got a moment?” Cal walked up as Zevran was drying off from a swim.  
“Of course, my warden, whatever you desire.” Zevran looked down pointedly at Cal’s pants.  
“Uh, yeah, no. Sorry.” Cal handed him a knife.  
“I think you need to clarify further my friend.” Zevran said spinning the knife in his hands.  
“I want you to pierce my ear! The right one, I can't do it!” Cal leaned in to show the small incisions on his ear lobe.  
“Easy enough. But are you sure you want the lobe? I could pierce it higher, here.” Zevran touched the top of the Warden’s ear. “A more exotic look?”  
“Hmm.” Cal looked in the river and examined the look. “What do you think?”  
“I think anything would look dashing on you.” Zevran purred, putting on his pants.  
Cal flustered by the comment. “Why don't you have your ears pierced?” Trying to change the topic.  
“Oh I don't know.” Zevran said. “You could pierce something else of course, the nipple, belly button…” Zevran wiggled his brows. “Your cock.”  
Cal went bright red. “No that's ok! The top. I've decided” Cal presented his ear.  
“If that's what you want.” Zevran leaned close “you act like I haven't seen every inch of you.” He held the knife close to the Warden’s ear. “I like the noises you make.” And pushed the knife through as Cal squeaked.  
“You could've warned me!” Cal cradled his ear.  
“It's better if you don't brace for it, give me the earring, I'll put it in for you.” Zevran said.  
Shakily Cal handed over a gorgeous gold earring that was quite familiar.  
“I… you know I took this off a dead man, correct?” Zevran teased.  
“Well I don't care! I washed it and I don't care where it's from, you gave it to me! I want everyone to know how much I love you.” Cal pouted.  
Zevran chuckled and pushed the metal into the weeping wound, Cal wiggled and made a face, but remained silent.  
“There.” Zevran said clicking it in place.  
“Finally.” Cal groaned and cast a spell of healing over his ear sealing the gold in place.  
“Ah, my warden, that was a bad idea, now if you want to remove it you'll have to rip it out.” Zevran said shaking his head.  
“Well I don't want to ever remove it. It was a gift from a very special someone.” Cal closed his eyes and puckered his lips.  
Zevran kissed his warden and gathered him in his arms.  
“It'll be with me forever,” murmured Cal. “Until I die.”

 

***

Ow. It hurt to breathe. What was…  
Cal. Dead.  
Oh.  
It didn't work.  
It was a total failure.  
Cal dead.  
Zevran opened his eyes and Liliana was holding his hand.  
“Oh thank the Maker.” She said smiling. “Oh Zevran what were you thinking?”  
Zevran looked away.  
He didn't say anything.  
“Zevran, was… was it true? Did you really try to get Alistair to kill you?”  
“...”  
“Zevran, please, talk to me, I know Cal is gone, it hurts me too, but you can't just give up completely! You have to keep going!”  
“... We… had a pact. When I first came to attack you, I knew it was an impossible mission I just wanted to end it. Cal, wanted to die too, but he said he couldn't until the blight was over… I suppose he found a way to get what he wanted.”  
“Oh Zevran, I didn't know! I'm so sorry.” She was squeezing his hand now.  
Zevran thought of the dream, or memory more accurately. Piercing Cal’s ear. Their embrace. It made his heart ache all the more to know he really did die with that dumb earring on. And that Zevran would never see him again. The Warden's had taken Cal. All Zevran could stare at was that dumb earring during the funeral.  
Cal had given him many things, beautiful dalish gloves, real antivan boots, gold and silver bars, and tons of jewelry. Cal had even occasionally bought cake and snuck it into one of their tents and split it with him.  
Zevran though, he only ever gave him that one earring, but Cal acted like he had given him the sun. He treasured it, and showed it off to everybody in camp, even Sten and Shale, who didn't seem to get what the big thing was.  
Cal wasn't big on possessions, he hated his family before the circle and the circle certainly hadn't given him anything.  
All he had the clothes on his back and staff, but he had replaced them several times over by the end. Cal was particular that they loot everyone or everyhing they killed but he ended up selling it or gifting most of it around.  
The one thing he did have was an amulet he got when he became a warden. He refused to take it off, even when he bathed or they had sex. And then the earring. He had attached it onto the amulet’s chain before Zevran had pierced his ear. And then after, magically sealed it to his ear.  
“Zevran?” Leliana brought him out of his reprieve. “Do you want to talk about it?”  
“Nothing to say.” Said Zevran.  
“Come on, Zevran, you have to keep on living, what would Cal want?” Leliana insisted.  
What would Cal want? What could Zevran do that Cal would approve of? Not suicide. Zevran’s heart hurt just imagining how his warden would react to the attempt, how he did react. When Zevran had told him that he had planned for his mission against the Wardens to fail, Cal had got those big green eyes wide and embraced him.  
“I lost a friend to suicide before, I knew… more than I wish who did it. I’ve tried it myself. Please, don't hurt yourself.” He had said.  
Zevran sighed. Not suicide, but that was hardly fair, Cal had commited suicide himself! He just happened to make a grand gesture of it.  
Hmm.  
A grand gesture.  
If Cal went out with a blaze of glory then so could he!  
But what could that gesture be? Cal hated the inequality of elves and humans, but, that wasn't really something Zevran could make a dent in. His warden had mixed feelings about circles, but again, that wasn't really something he could change.  
Perhaps something closer to home.  
The crows. Cal had been heartbroken that Zevran had been bought and decried it as slavery. Though he stopped calling it that when Zevran expressed uncomfort at being called 'a slave’. Cal had confided that the only reason he had agreed to help the crows on missions was securing their promise to leave Zevran alone, but the thought of working with such evil people made him sick.  
That's it.  
Zevran would take down the crows, or more preferably, die trying.

***

It had been years.  
Years since Cal had died saving Ferelden. A country Zevran wasn't even from. But Cal was. Cal didn't even like it that much, his favourite part of Ferelden were the dogs. The fucking stinking dogs.  
On lonely nights, after Cal had fallen asleep in his arms, and Zevran had returned to his own tent, Zevran wondered if Cal loved Zevran as much as he love Barkspawn. He never had the guts to ask and now he never would.  
As Zevran watched the Champion take down the beast he was hiding behind, he couldn't help but be reminded of Cal.  
Dark brown hair, a healer, a big bushy beard, and of course, calling the shots from the back of the fight. He even meticulously started looting right before Zevran called him over.  
Mm.  
Gold eyes.  
Zevran couldn't help but be disappointed, he knew no one could replace Cal, but he supposed that deep down he wished he was.  
Zevran explained the situation to the champion, Hawke.  
Hawke had the sense to look bashful and apologized, he flirty voraciously though. Each time he did, however, the elf with the silver markings glared at Zevran and tensed.  
Hehe, looks like there was some unresolved tension there.  
Hawke hummed and hahed and eventually said Zevran was free to go.  
Cal. Dead.  
Really? This Hawke was just as naive as Cal. He supposed he should just be grateful he was, but it still hurt his heart how much like Cal this Hawke was.  
Zevran made himself scarce, only to follow them to the nuncio’s camp. Of course they attacked the champion on sight. Zevran jumped in to help, not that the four of them seemed to need it.  
Knowing how eager Hawke was last time, he let them loot the crows before calling them over. Zevran offered himself to Hawke knowing full well the elf would step in to refuse the offer.  
“That depends. How much do you wish to test that luck of yours?" The elf growled.  
There it was.  
Zevran made an appeasing gesture and turned to leave only to hear Hawke whip around.  
“What! Three years I've waited for you Fenris! You never talk to me, what am I supposed to do?” He yelled.  
Zevran had to keep himself from chuckling.  
He was happy this 'Fenris’ had stepped in, he wasn't sure what he would do if Hawke had accepted his offer.  
Well that wasn't true, he would have had refuse him. Zevran had refused many lovers over the years, he had decided not to love ever again after Cal. Well after he lost Cal, Rinna and Talisen, he was certain he would go mad with grief if he lost one more person. He didn't fuck people anymore, at first it was agonizing, seeing men and women with their beautiful bodies flaunt it and not being able to touch. He jacked off constantly at first, but as he aged he found his need for sex decreased.  
Though in hindsight, Zevran had a feeling Cal didn't like sex that much. They only had sex twice. Zevran couldn't make Cal cum the first time, Cal had to stroke himself to completion. If Zevran didn't know better he would have thought it was him but that was impossible. He had been trained since childhood to seduce and please, and yet, it didn't work on Cal.  
And the second time… he still smiled to himself. Alistair had somehow confused who Cal’s heart belonged to after they had sex. Cal dragged Zevran to the fireplace and sucked his cock right there with everyone to see. He was bad at it, but the effort and the exabitionism made it so hot.  
Zevran supposed Cal tried to sleep with Isabella and him, but after a few false starts it became uncomfortably clear that if the warden didn't really like boys, he really didn't like girls. So the young man just let Isabella and Zevran have fun while he quietly got off in the corner.  
Cal dead.  
The old twinge shot through his chest as the old thought ran through his head. It hurt, but it felt like it didn't hurt as much. Time may not heal all wounds, but it does heal a hell of a lot.  
When Cal first died, everything reminded him of him. Bearded humans, mages, mabari and of course, the gifts that Zevran had kept from Cal. He wanted to rip off the antivan boots and throw them away, every step a reminder of Cal.  
But he didn't. He kept them in a bag with the dalish gloves and looked at them every night before bed.  
After about a year, he took them out and wore them again. It hurt, but it didn't hurt as much as before. It was bearable.  
Zevran was surprised how he was able to kill so many crows, it had been years and he still wasn't dead.  
Don't mistake him. He still wanted to die, but Cal had achieved his goal, Cal had stopped the blight. When Zevran had annihilated the crows, he could die then, but until that point, he had to survive.  
It would have been what Cal wanted.

***

Zevran missed cuddling he decided as he watched a couple walk close together.  
Well.  
He missed cuddling Cal.  
Zevran didn't like cuddling targets, he didn't like the intimacy and the risk of being so close to someone. If you were that close to someone, and you let your guard down, what was stopping them from sliding a knife into your ribs?  
But Cal was different somehow. Not at first, but with practice. Not long after Zevran had sworn allegiance to his warden, Cal had invited him into his tent. Zevran was surprised but very pleased, he bathed, cleaned himself, shaved, basically prepared himself for a night of lovemaking. Only to be surprised when instead, Cal had cuddled up, and layed a thick book in his lap.  
“Look!” He had said, “they have fiction novels here! There were none in the circle! Do you want to read it with me?”  
“Uh, this is why you begged me to come to your tent?” Zevran asked, stunned.  
“Of course, silly! Bodan had this, and I had to read it, I know you're an interesting assassin but this is a fictionalization of events! Anything can happen! It's about a woman who meets a warden, I think it's a romance novel.”  
They lay together, legs entwined. and took turns reading. It was a trashy novel, but Cal didn't seem to realize that until after the lovemaking had started. Cal made Zevran read those parts and buried his face in the pillows. Whenever Zevran implied they could stop reading and do the lovemaking themselves, Cal scrunched up his face and shoved Zevran.  
And so it started, Cal coming to Zevran's tent or Zevran to his and them reading or talking. They told each other gossip, they told each other secrets, and those dark nights when one or both of them wanted to die or Cal wanted to harm himself, they talked each other down until the urges passed. And every night when Cal dozed off Zevran would gently unwind their limbs and go sleep in the other tent. He couldn't sleep with someone else there, too dangerous.  
Cal had accused of Zevran being allergic to tents because he couldn't seem to stay in one for the whole night. Zevran had distracted him.  
Sometimes Zevran would have to switch tents several times a night, Cal waking up to nightmares or blightmares and waking up Zevran at ungodly hours crying about depression or anxiety or the crushing weight of saving the world. Zevran would calm him down and when he fell back asleep, switch tents again.  
What Zevran wouldn't give to sleep next to Cal now. He would give anything just to hold him, to sleep beside him, to wake up every day beside him.  
Cal dead.  
But.  
Zevran had done it.  
Mostly.  
He had dismantled the crows, person by person. He had killed a grandmaster and taken his place. He had gathered up the fledgling crows and set up orphanages for them. He controlled crows that had sworn allegiance to him. It had taken him years but it was, more or less done. If Zevran died his second in command will finish what Zevran had set up.  
So.  
He could die.  
Right?  
But.  
But but but.  
He had so many people relying on him.  
The fledglings and his subordinates and his servants. Zevran was certain that if he died the crows would rise from the ashes like a Phoenix.  
So.  
He… didn't really… want to die? Not anymore.  
Zevran had a quite a few close calls over the years. The closest being when he had almost drowned, five versus one, tied up and thrown in the ocean. This had happened right after he killed a Grandmaster.  
He could have died there, he was a peace, he didn't think he would get as far as he did and for awhile he just let himself sink. And then it hit. Something he hadn't felt in a long time. Fear, not of failing but of dying, the cold water and the pain in his lungs.  
He didn't want to die.  
He didn't want to die!  
He jerked and twisted and got the ropes undone and swam to the surface.  
That breath of air was the biggest relief of Zevran's life.  
Air pure and clean and smelling of salt.  
He was alive.  
And he was going to kill those bastards.  
Ever since that thought had crossed his mind Zevran had been at peace. Sure, he had moments when he wanted to die after, but he reminded himself that when push came to shove, he didn't really want to die. He just wanted the pain to stop.  
Cal dead.  
It hurt, Zevran figured it always would.  
But he could move forward now. Pushing forward and improving Antiva, like Cal did to Ferelden.  
He was going to live. He was going to better Antiva. Zevran petted his soft gloves and wiggled his toes in his boots, reminders of his warden.  
Zevran. Was going to live, not just survive and kill, he was going to live.  
And he was going to do it for his warden.

**Author's Note:**

> Yay happy ending!  
> Comments appreciated


End file.
